


The Cage Within a Cage

by Kyla_Wren



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: DrummerWolf, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 17:12:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14981768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyla_Wren/pseuds/Kyla_Wren
Summary: A brief Amanda/Martin ficlet set during S2E4 "The House Within a House".What's Martin thinking about while he's in lockup?





	The Cage Within a Cage

There were only three things on Martin’s mind as he waited, chained up in his cage in Blackwing. They circled around and around again in his head. The darkness was absolute, the cold air unyielding. His straight jacket stretched and re-knitted every time he flexed his muscles - testing, testing, without any real hope of success.

The first thought was the safety of his brothers. He could scent them, trapped under the floor in their own cages on either side. Their mark reassured him time and time again that they still lived. He checked for them often, maybe every hour, though it was hard to keep track of the passing minutes. Cross was a boiling pot of rage. Gripps was a grim, steady simmer. Their unhappiness made them easier to sense. He trusted that Vogel was still alive out there - and that he would know, somehow, if the Rowdy cub ceased to be. The worry surfaced and was quelled a hundred times a day. His brothers lived. For now.

The second thought, much more delicious, much more agonizing, was one of revenge. The little taste he had of Hugo Friedkin wasn’t nearly enough. Every piece of pain, hunger, and rage in Martin’s body was pointing towards Blackwing like a arrow, and the bow was pulled tighter every second. He was going to finish that boy off. Then he was going to eat Priest, and then any other operative that stood between him and the door. The thought of how agonizing he could make it entertained him just as it frustrated him. Martin was the most patient Rowdy, but that wasn’t saying much at all. He felt like his sanity was chipping away. The image of Friedkin holding a squirming Drummer, gun to her temple, stoked the pilot light of his anger into an inferno.

And then it died away again, as the third topic of thought washed into his head like a soothing tide. Drummer.

She’d gotten away, he’d made sure of it. Her mark was nowhere in this facility, and he knew her scent well enough to be certain.  
He liked to save thinking about Drummer until he absolutely had to, the way you would save the best part of your dessert for last. _She’s the cream in the cupcake._ He would spool out his memories of her one at a time - the touch of her hand as he helped her in and out of the van, the swing of her ponytail as she ran and danced, the sound of her wild laugh. Best of all, the sparkle in her eyes when she met his gaze. The smallest smile curled the corner of his lips in the dark. Even here.  


When they escaped from this hellhole he was going straight to her. It was some comfort that Vogel was with her - he couldn’t stand the thought of Drummer having her attacks alone and without someone there to drink her pain away. On the flip side, he was sure she would be the one protecting the fourth Rowdy. Drummer was tough.

Drummer. _Amanda._

Martin wanted to see her more than anything, to drink and dance and laugh with her, to hear her voice again. His hands flexed in their bonds, imagining her touch.

The old insidious worry wormed its way into his head. His friends were being chased out there. Blackwing wanted Vogel. There was doubtless another cage in this very room, waiting for him to complete the set. But Drummer… Blackwing had no use for her. Martin twitched, his head turning in the dark as if to avoid the thought. With no other stimuli to distract him, it returned with greater force. They could kill her. An image of her flooded his brain, lifeless and crumpled like a doll, swept aside while the operatives grabbed his screaming brother.

Martin’s sightless eyes flicked open. His face was still as stone. Then it shattered in a wolf’s howling scream that vibrated through his cage and the wider room above. His brothers were startled out of their stasis, and screamed and howled with him. All three rattled in their bonds.

The need to destroy, to tear these walls apart until fresh air hit his lungs, to suck every drop of life out of his enemies and then trample over them in his escape swirled through his head like a nightmare. Martin silenced. He dropped his head back and let one thought fill his mind and quiet his heart. 

_I’ll see you again, Drummer girl._

**Author's Note:**

> :) hang in there, Martin.


End file.
